


Esther

by Iomhar



Series: Alternate Universe Hunger Games [5]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iomhar/pseuds/Iomhar
Summary: Esther, age 13, wins the Hunger Games.A short piece on the life of one of the youngest victors following her success in the arena.  Esther Hugh of District 8 won the 138th Hunger Games.  After her victory, she returned home and tried to pick life back up again.  But after the things she witnessed in the arena, she finds that there is no "normal" in her world anymore and she'll have to adapt to the circumstances.This is part of an alternate universe Hunger Games series I created.  There is no set reading order.
Series: Alternate Universe Hunger Games [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886524
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an attempt to write a short piece.
> 
> "Esther" is a character backstory for one of the characters in my AU series. However, it is written as a stand-alone story so hopefully it can be enjoyed by people who are not familiar with the work. Thanks for reading!

Esther, age 13, wins the Hunger Games.

Some of the people watching say it’s a fluke and that the quiet thirteen-year-old girl won only because the major competition was wiped out early. They still drink to her victory and toast her health anyway. But her fellow victors, regardless of age or district, treat her with respect. Winning the Hunger Games is an accomplishment no matter how it’s done, but it’s never something to celebrate. She’ll discover that soon enough.

She returns home to her district and to the people who love her. Her friends cheer when the train pulls up, and they are eager to see her again even though their parents and teachers warn them that she will be different after the experiences she’s had. They don’t care because the quiet girl is still their friend. They wait their turn to greet their classmate, and in their patience, they see that the adults were right: Esther is different. Her pale face is strained, there are dark circles beneath her brown eyes, and her long blondish-brown hair is drawn back into a braid, a hairstyle she’s never worn before. She smiles when she sees them, but it’s a haunted smile that doesn’t fully reach her eyes.

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She only killed one person. That, they say, is very disappointing. There have been other victors who have only killed one, of course, and that’s not nearly as exciting as the victors who show off their great power through multiple deaths. Esther, of course, does not have great power. She is a thirteen-year-old girl, barely over 5’ tall. Nobody expected her to be victor, not with a 3 in training. Not against a Career pack full of seventeen and eighteen year olds.

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Everybody thought that the final battle would be a no-brainer. How could the thirteen year old from District 8 be competition for the eighteen-year-old from District 1? And when the spear went into the thirteen year old’s stomach, all bets were off: District 1 would have another victor.

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When Esther closes her eyes at night, she sees the face of Felicity Listener of District 1. It wasn’t a pleasant face to look at to begin with. Others said Felicity was beautiful, but Esther never saw that; instead she only saw the indifferent sneer the girl gave her in the Training Center as she wrote Esther off as bloodbath fodder. Now Esther sees that sneer in her dreams, but it’s covered in blood and maggots and decay and rot.

She wonders if she will always be haunted by this face. She wonders of the other victors who killed so many more than she did—how can they possibly have room in their nightmares for all the people they killed if only one person claims so much of her dreams?

She tells no one of her nightmares. Her parents know anyway, but they don’t tell their daughter that her screams keep them up at night and they can do nothing but hold her and assure her that she is safe with them.

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Her mother and father nearly lose their jobs because they’re trying to tend to her, and Esther realizes that she has to put on a brave face so that they can continue with their lives. Her mother works in one of the greenhouses where she raises plants for dyes. Her father works in a textile mill where he has a managing position. Both of them are good at what they do, and they’ve always been proud in their work. Even though she knows that finances are no longer an issue, Esther does not want to be the reason they lose their jobs.

So she tells them that she is fine and that there is nothing for them to be concerned about. They know that it is a lie, but how can parents comfort a child who has been through such a traumatic event as the Hunger Games?


	2. Chapter 2

Esther returns to school. As a victor, she is no longer required to attend classes or to graduate high school like her peers. Of course, this rule was written long ago under the assumption that thirteen year olds wouldn’t be victorious. Not that it matters anyway; the girl’s life will change dramatically now that she’s a victor, and school will be the least of her concerns.

But she wants normalcy. She wants to continue with her life where she left off, and she hopes that the classroom will provide that option. What other choice does she have if she doesn’t want to sit alone in her victor mansion all day with her parents at work and her little siblings in classes of their own?

Her friends and classmates welcome her back. They eagerly offer to sit next to her, or to stand with her in the lunch line, or to be in her lab group in science class. Esther appreciates it, but she can’t help but feel that is the opposite of normal. The opposite of what she wanted.

═══════════════

She is sent home early on her third day back to school. The school nurse recommends that she not return until she can get through class without having a panic attack. But since there are no resources for young victors—after all, why would somebody who has had the honor of victory need mental help?—she has no choice but to find her own way.

Her former mentor lives next door, so Esther asks her for help. The woman is in her forties. She’s never had children of her own. She doesn’t know how to be what Esther needs her to be because she’s trained to take kids to their death, not to accompany them through life. She tries to explain to Esther that she just has to figure out her own way to get through it. The mentor should be happy that after so many years she has finally brought a tribute to victory, but as she stands in her doorway and watches Esther tremble before her, she wonders if it was worth it.

Esther returns to school the next week and tries again. This time she tells herself that she just _has_ to stay sane enough to get through the day. There are no resources. There’s nowhere for her to turn. She is on her own.

She manages to go the whole day without a panic attack. She has accomplished something small but miraculous.

═══════════════

Her friends start to tell her that she’s weird. They don’t say it quite like that, but she can tell when they talk to her that they’re no longer as interested in spending time around her as they once were. They no longer want to line up with her for lunch, nor do they all try to ask her to be in their lab groups. She thinks they might be trying to avoid her without being obvious about it, but more often than not, she finds herself alone.

When her teacher discovers her crying in the bathroom stall after school, she tries to tell Esther not to take it personally, but how can she? Esther is thirteen. Social interaction is a necessity. But no one seems to want to be around her at all. The teacher can hardly blame the other students, either; she, like they, sees that Esther might be physically in the classroom but is mentally somewhere else. Esther misses the jokes, the social cues, the little things that would make her fit in with the others.

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PE class is the worst of all. Esther hangs back near the bleachers in her worn t-shirt and shorts that she’s used since she was in fifth grade. Today the gym teacher makes her participate. After all, Esther is to be treated as just a normal kid and not a celebrity, so she shouldn’t be allowed to skip class while her peers are required to participate. Today she doesn’t get to pretend that her stomach hurts.

They play dodgeball. Esther makes it about five minutes in before she falls on the floor sobbing. She is taken to the nurse’s office and left on a cot in a quiet corner until her parents are able to pick her up.

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Is it worth it?

═══════════════

She calls her friends to come over to see the mansion. Two of the five show up. They love the tour that she gives them, and they think that maybe the new Esther is not so different than the old one. But then someone brings up the Hunger Games—a stupid move in hindsight—and the conversation freezes. Esther barely holds herself together and whispers all sorts of disgusting and disturbing things about her time in the Capitol. Her friends ask to borrow her phone to call their moms to pick them up.


	3. Chapter 3

Esther turns fourteen today. She didn’t bother to invite her classmates, so she celebrates it with her parents and her little siblings instead. It’s nice enough, though quiet. They don’t use any sort of noisemakers. No flashing lights. No balloons like the normally do. Nothing that will startle her. The party is pleasant. Her mother serves them meatloaf and mashed potatoes. For dessert they have a cake her mother ordered. It is decorated with sweet icing and Esther’s favorite flowers.

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Esther’s mother handmade a quilt for her and gives it to her for her birthday. She doesn’t say it, but she had been working on it ever since the train took her daughter away. It kept her hands occupied even as her mind drifted to her eldest child and the things she was enduring in the Capitol. Over the coming weeks, she worked steadily night and day as she watched the Hunger Games unfold. Each stitch is made with love.

And fear.

And pain.

She had planned to bury the quilt with her daughter.

═══════════════

Esther’s father gives her a small book. It’s a worn ledger with a cloth cover and blank pages, but despite its age, it’s never been used. He calls it an antique. Esther says it has charm. He gives her a bit of a pencil, too. Not the sort they have in class, but the ones that have softer graphite. It’s a leftover from work, and it writes very smoothly. He explains to his daughter that she can use this to draw. It’s her own private book that no one will look at.

Five days later, he finds it in the living room where his daughter had inadvertently left it behind. Despite his promise that its contents would remain a secret only to Esther, he flips through page after page of drawings: blood, fluids, body parts, death, disease, decay, famine. He regrets giving her the book as a present. But he regrets even more that his daughter has any reason to draw these things at all.

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Esther’s little brother gets her a nightlight. It’s a cleverly crafted little thing that uses nonflammable fabrics straight from their home district. He doesn’t mean to imply that his teenage sister needs to sleep with a nightlight like she’s a little kid, but he wonders if maybe it would help. Sometimes having a light on at night helps him sleep, too. And even if it doesn’t help her, at least she’ll like looking at it, right?

Sometimes when Esther can’t sleep at night, she curls up on the ground underneath the nightlight with her handmade quilt wrapped tightly around her and slowly drifts to sleep beneath the warm glow.

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Esther’s little sister couldn’t think of anything to buy her, so she sings Esther a song instead. She doesn’t think that Esther likes it because her big sister looks away while she sings. But in all truth, to Esther it’s the best gift of all. It is not tangible. It is a fleeting moment in life. It is something that she will be forced to remember in order for her to keep, and she will never have any reason to leave it behind. She remembers the song sometimes, when she’s scared or having trouble getting through the day. It makes things better, if only a little.


	4. Chapter 4

Esther’s knife went into the chest of the eighteen-year-old girl from District 1.

The Career had let her guard down and Esther saw it as her last shot for life. One last chance before she would die. She didn’t know what death was like—how would a kid know those things?—but she knew she feared it above all else. So she grabbed up the knife in her fist and brought her hand down on the District 1 girl’s chest.

The District 1 girl gasped in shock. How could this small girl from lowly District 8 manage to get in a blow like that? How could a trained Career who made it to the final battle be so foolish? She had assumed that the thrust of the spear would have been enough to guarantee her victory. But she collapsed on the ground, all thoughts of mistakes gone as she struggled to breathe.

Esther, no longer able to stand as pain radiated from her abdomen, fell to her knees next to the District 1 girl. She watched the girl take ragged breaths, and she knew that the girl was in pain, just like she was. They were close enough now so that she could see the girl’s eyes glisten with tears. She could see her flawless skin, stained with dirt after days in the arena, down to the very pore. She could feel the girl’s hot breath. She could hear the ragged, wheezing sounds of agony.

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What had she done?

Their blood mingled together, and she no longer knew what was hers and what was the other girl’s. Their pain mingled together, and she could not twist them apart.

She knew that the longer the spear stayed in her own abdomen, the greater her chances of dying. But she was scared. She had already done something terrible, and she didn’t know if she could force herself to do what she needed to do so that she could go home and see her family once more.

Her trembling fingers reached out and grasped the blood-soaked knife that stuck from the District 1 girl’s chest. The District 1 girl met her eyes, mouth open as she gasped desperately for breath.

What had she done?

How could Esther, a thirteen year old, a loyal daughter, an older sister, a junior high school student—how could she have done something so horrible that caused this older girl to cling to life?

Esther pulled the knife out of the girl, but before she could plunge it back in, the District 1 female tribute went limp.

The cannon fired.

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Esther fell to her side, spear still jabbed into her abdomen, and cried.

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When Esther woke up in the hospital after days of treatment, the nurses greeted her and said, “Congratulations! You’re a victor now!”

What does that even mean?


End file.
